


but that's just a first impression (I could be totally wrong)

by dearericbittle (dutchmoxie)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Awesome Laura Hale, Beta Derek Hale, Blind Date, Laura Hale Lives, M/M, With A Twist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-19 14:40:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17603249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dutchmoxie/pseuds/dearericbittle
Summary: Derek is on a really awful blind date (Laura will pay for this). But the waiter is really cute.





	but that's just a first impression (I could be totally wrong)

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [то было первое впечатление (я могу ошибаться)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20140174) by [Azure_Cosmea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azure_Cosmea/pseuds/Azure_Cosmea)



This was not the first time that his family had set him up, but it was definitely going to be the last. After this guy, Laura was never going to be allowed to even think of forcing him to meet anyone.

They only just got to the restaurant and Derek was already over it – and thinking seriously about injuring himself to get away. He was a werewolf, he’d heal, but his date was not in the know and he did not look like he possessed enough empathy to take Derek to a hospital. It made it more likely he’d leave Derek alone to seek medical attention that he didn’t need – the perfect escape.

So far, the guy had already tried to grope him three separate times, barely taking his hands off before Derek was tempted to let his claws out. He’d been a douche to the hostess, a perfectly lovely girl, albeit a little nervous on her first night on the job. And now he was talking about his fucking car again – a Porsche, because clearly he was compensating for something.

Derek was ready to stab himself with the shrimp fork.

Also, who would take a first date to such an embarrassing and stuffy restaurant? Did this guy really think that Derek would be impressed enough to get naked because of it?

“Good evening, gentlemen,” the waiter showed up.

Ugh, Derek didn’t want to look up from his menu long enough to get a glimpse of his date, because then he’d have to acknowledge that this was actually happening. Not even his most impressive resting bitchface with his most severe murder brows had deterred this guy from getting inappropriately close on the car ride over there.

And it didn’t stop him from hating on the Camaro.

“Finally,” the douche was an asshole to any and all waitstaff as well – another deal breaker. “I thought I might die of starvation before we got some actual service here.”

That earned him a serious glare from Derek, that the worst date ever didn’t even notice because he was too busy treating the server like complete shit.

The server with golden eyes and an impish tilt to his nose, the one who smelled vaguely of cinnamon and sugar. The man he could have sworn he’d seen somewhere before, but he didn’t display any signs of him being familiar with Derek.

That was going to bother him until he’d figured it out.

“I apologize you had to wait longer than you’d been expecting,” the server looked vaguely bored with the conversation – Derek could relate. “Can I get you anything to drink while you peruse the menu? If you’ve already made your choice, I can take your order.”

Normally, Derek would suggest alcohol, and lots of it, but he drove the asshole – and because the guy did not actually know Derek wouldn’t be able to get drunk off a couple glasses of wine, he had to play human and stay sober.

“Are you trying to rush us out?”

“I’d like some water, thanks,” Derek completely ignored his date and just addressed the server directly. “What would you recommend?”

It wasn’t just that he did not want to interact with his date, but also that he still had not figured out how he knew this waiter. Maybe if he talked more, he would put the pieces together.

“You look like a carnivore to me,” the guy actually winked at him, briefly forming a claw with his left hand. “So I think you would appreciate our pork tenderloin or the steak. Rare, of course. Or the rabbit.” Another wink, without the gesture this time. “We have a lovely beef stew that pairs well with our house red. But my personal favorite appetizer is the sausage-stuffed pepper poppers. And not just because it’s wonderful to say. I pair it with our signature cocktail – which we can serve for you in a virgin version as well.”

Who was this guy and how did he know? The claws, the jokes about rabbits and rare stick (which really was a personal favorite of his)… The mystery was the most interesting thing about the date so far.

“I will take your suggestion,” Derek let his eyes glow briefly, easily written off as a trick of the light. “And that virgin cocktail. I’ll take the steak. Rare.”

When the waiter did not flinch at that, reacting to his electric blue eyes as if he’d seen it all before, Derek almost gaped at him. Even those in the know would react to a blue-eyed werewolf with fear and disdain. He’d gotten used to it, but he’d never liked it.

“I’ll tell the kitchen,” the server – Derek really wanted his name – nodded solemnly, a hint of a grin on his face. “And you sir, have you made a decision?”

Oh right, there was someone else at the table. Derek had been this close to forgetting, and now he was forcefully reminded that he’d have to spend the rest of the night with this guy.

“What are your low-carb options?” His date was looking worse by the second.

Derek barely held back a groan, because he was an asshole. He was judgmental about these model type guys eating hardly anything, or watching their weight because of some fad diet. Sure, as a werewolf he never had to worry about his weight or his metabolism, but it was just another thing where they were as far from a match as they could be. The guy was probably a vegetarian too.

He was going to murder Laura for this.

As the waiter painstakingly went through the many dishes on the menu, his fake smile never faltering, Derek tried to surreptitiously take another sniff of him. Processed sugars normally made him sneeze, but there was something about this guy that made it work.

Somehow he completely failed at being surreptitious, because the server wiggled his cute nose at Derek without pausing his speech about the fresh vegetables used in the pear and goat cheese salad.

How was he doing this? How could he tell?

He was spending so much time thinking about his server that he completely missed whatever stupid thing his date ordered, only tuning back in for a crack about not everyone having a body to maintain (making the waiter flinch at the judgment and Derek prepare to roar out his disapproval).

“If you need anything else, just ask for Stiles,” the server – Stiles? – nodded before departing with a fake customer service smile. “Your drinks will be right with you.”

“What the hell kind of name is Stiles?”

Honestly, the shrimp fork was looking more and more appealing by the minute. Stiles would help him escape, he was sure of it.

By the time Stiles brought out the main course, Derek was tempted to ask the server to run away with him. The food was delicious, but the company continued to be awful and Stiles’ subtle digs at his date were the only reason for Derek to stick around.

That and all of the favors that Laura would owe him after this. Where did she even meet an asshole like this? She’d probably told him, but he hadn’t really been listening. Which is also why he wouldn’t be able to tell anyone his date’s name even if someone held a gun to his head.

He assumed that the asshole was one of the people Laura had gotten in touch with at the DA’s office. And if he’d go out on a date if Laura asked, he couldn’t be one of the people she put behind bars, or someone she beat. Because those guys hated her.

Because she was better than all of them combined. But he could never tell her that – that was the sibling rule.

Digging into his food, he almost let out a moan at the perfect flavor of the steak. And it was perfectly cooked – rare enough for him to really enjoy it, but not rare enough to make it look and taste like he was eating raw meat.

Perhaps someone on staff was a werewolf?

There was a small piece of paper carelessly dropped next to his plate. The second his date was otherwise occupied – probably by his own reflection – he folded it open and had to hide an actual laugh threatening to escape from his mouth.

_I spit in the salad_

_Sorry not sorry_

It was awful, but it was also surprisingly charming. The handwriting was terrible, almost illegible with the way that the letters all crowded together and some of them slanted weirdly to the left – but the words were still easy enough to make out for Derek. He could almost hear Stiles’ voice wrapping around the words, as if he’d spoken them aloud.

There was no way he couldn’t respond, awkwardly hiding his hands as he wrote on an old receipt in the pocket of his slightly too tight jacket.

_I’m sure the saliva really brings out the flavor in that lettuce_

He took advantage of his werewolf speed to shove the note in Stiles’ pocket as he passed the table, holding the empty plates of the lovely couple occupying the table next to them.

It took a minute, but then he heard laughter coming from the kitchen, and he knew a pleased grin had made it on to his own face. He really hoped that his date didn’t think it had anything to do with him.

At some point his date would have to talk himself out, right? Because Derek hadn’t said more than two words to him since Stiles delivered the entrees and still the guy was talking (about himself). Derek was happy not to make conversation, but if the guy’s foot moved up his leg one more time, he was accidentally going to break it.

Only it really would not be an accident.

When Stiles came by to ask about dessert, Derek was ready to call it a night, no matter how much he’d love to continue flirting with Stiles. Passing notes like they were in high school, shooting smiles and flirtatious looks without the asshole noticing.

Fuck, Derek still couldn’t remember his name.

“How about we take dessert home?”

Wait, the douche still thought that this date was going well? Even when Derek hadn’t responded to any of his overtures? Even though Derek didn’t respond to a single thing he said and didn’t speak to him unless asked? Even though Derek forgot his damn name?

“How about I drop you off at your place,” Derek was tired of holding back, “and I go back here to get my own dessert. All. By. Myself.”

He hadn’t had a chance to look at the dessert menu, and his sweet tooth was sort of an open secret to his pack. And maybe he could have sucked it up a little while longer, but the implication that Derek would go home with this guy just because he bothered to took him out to a fancy dinner? That was more than enough to have him refuse outright.

“All those in favor say aye,” Stiles muttered under his breath, trying to distance himself from the awkward proceedings.

Shit, he really couldn’t put Stiles in the middle of this, because he didn’t want him to risk his job. Anything less than kind he did or said to this douche would naturally have the asshole calling for his job. Because God forbid people had opinions about him that were less than complete awe of his existence.

Why the hell did Laura think Derek would want to go on a date with a guy like that?

“We’ll take the check,” Derek spoke decisively. “Thank you.”

Sure, his date protested at that, and rather loudly at first, until he realized that he was drawing attention to himself. Guys like this never wanted to be seen as less than perfect – and a rejection from his date? That would be less than perfect.

Ugh – he was probably going to try and convince Derek when they were alone. He was not looking forward to that.

The asshole didn’t leave a tip, even though he did pick up the bill – it was his idea, so Derek thought it was only right. Though he did grab his wallet to leave a proper tip, shooting a kind smile to the insecure hostess on his way out.

As he expected, only painful honesty got the asshole out of the Camaro with Derek’s metaphorical virtue still in tact. He was still going to take a long shower to wash the scent off him, but first he was going to go back for dessert. Two desserts maybe.

He was going to leave this part out of the story he was telling Laura. She did not need any extra ammunition to make fun of him – as his older sister, she had a lifetime’s worth.

“You came back,” it almost seemed like Stiles was waiting for him.

“I couldn’t leave without dessert,” he shrugged, like the awkward shit he was.

Because he did leave, no matter how briefly – he had to drive the douche home. But he wasn’t going to leave Stiles before he’d gotten a chance to talk to him, to at least try and figure out what he knew and if he could grin at Derek some more.

If that didn’t make him a creep who hit on someone at their job, which was probably up there on the list of asshole things to do.

“You are in for a treat,” Stiles’ smirk promised only great things – some of them slightly dirty.

Or was that wishful thinking?

Still, Stiles did not take his order before he walked away. Which meant that he probably had some kind of plan to surprise Derek with a nice dessert – he could never argue with a plan like that.

He could trust Stiles to pick something good for him.

It was awkward sitting at the table by himself, with people giving him pitying looks like he’d been stood up by a date – instead of kicking his date out of his car and coming back to flirt with the cute waiter some more. And get dessert. But mostly that first bit.

When the scent of cinnamon and sugar got even stronger than it was before, he looked away from the snooty old couple he’d been glaring at. Stiles was grinning as he placed a perfect cake in front of Derek.

The reason for the grin quickly became obvious.

_I WIN_

_YOU LOSE_

The writing was in a hideous shade of pink, the shade Laura always claimed was no one’s color but Barbie’s. But she always enjoyed defacing his property with a pink pen, because that was what older sisters were for.

His sister was actually the worst.

“I won! You lose, baby brother.”

His sister was actually here, digging into the cake with relish as her eyes flared red ever so briefly, just to stick it to him even more.

“You won what?” Derek had to roll his eyes at her. “The competition for worst blind date you’ve ever sent me on?”

And that is a pretty high bar, so far. After setting him up with Jennifer, who ended up trying to magic him for some reason, he had all the rights to complain. Though Jennifer was a pretty good date until she tried to manipulating into killing her ex-girlfriend.

“I feel like I should be offended,” Stiles was still there, taking a seat next to Derek for no apparent reason.

What the hell was going on here? There was no way that he minded Stiles sitting with him, the guy could sit in his lap and Derek would be happy. But still – Laura’s plans always ended in some kind of humiliation, and apparently she hadn’t had her fill after that awful guy.

“Jackson was my intern,” Laura has frosting on her face, but she doesn’t seem to care. “I told him I’d finally let him take on a proper case if he was the worst date ever. That way you’d be too annoyed to ignore your actual date. My good friend Stiles here.”

Jackson! That was his name!

“You always dismiss these dates before you even bother getting to know them,” Laura continued her speech, because she always did love a speech, “and I’ve known for ages that you and Stiles would hit it off.”

Derek really wanted to be mad at his sister, because the whole manipulation deal was not okay, not ever. And she knew it, and would probably apologize for it in time, once she was done gloating about it.

“Because I’m adorable,” Stiles nodded seriously.

But also, that. He did like Stiles, right away. And if Laura had introduced Stiles as his blind date, he probably would have found an excuse to hate him, right away.

“How about you go eat your victory cake elsewhere?” Stiles proposed. “And your hot like burning brother and I can discuss this without your interference.”

For once, Laura listened to someone other than herself – which was impressive. And the way Stiles just grabbed him the second Laura’s back was turned was even more impressive, especially when Stiles told him that Laura would have to pay for that cake.

Stiles clocked out and unbuttoned his tie, thoroughly distracting Derek.

By the time Laura finished the cake and paid, they were steaming up the windows of the Camaro.

Laura never did have to set him up after that.


End file.
